


How To Earn A Name

by falindis



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Discipline, Hand Jobs, Hate Sex, M/M, Master/Servant, NSFW Art, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Secret Relationship, Seducing a teacher, Size Difference, Size Kink, Sloppy Seconds, Spitroasting, Teacher-Student Relationship, Threesome - M/M/M, Years of the Lamps, seduction of mairon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:36:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29863056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falindis/pseuds/falindis
Summary: Mairon felt Melkor’s clawed fingers scratch at his scalp, twisting his hair as he held him still. Melkor did not even have to do any work – with each thrust that Aulë gave, Mairon was simply pushed further towards Melkor. Like a piece of molten metal, caught between an anvil and a hammer. Mairon could not have stopped even if he tried.Desperate for attention and recognition from Aulë, Mairon turns towards other means to please his master. But he is not the only one the Maia has set his eyes on.
Relationships: Aulë | Mahal/Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor, Aulë | Mahal/Sauron | Mairon, Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor/Sauron | Mairon, Sauron | Mairon/Aulë | Mahal/Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	How To Earn A Name

**Author's Note:**

> This was the result of a collaboration with one of my favorite artists and mutuals, @darklord on tumblr (@moriquendi on Twitter), who drew the fanart below! I absolutely adore their art and have wanted to do a collab with them for a longer time, and now we finally did it! The Mairon/Aulë/Melkor threesome was originally their idea – I just expanded it! I wish to thank them for all the help and support I got in brainstorming and writing this fic. Go check them out, they’re amazingly talented ♥ 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The glowing forge was hot on the Maia’s skin as he was bended over the anvil, freckled thighs wide, apron hanging loose. His flame-red hair fell in unruly strands, escaped from between the ties of his braid. Beads of sweat clung onto his milky-white skin.

“Lesson five”, a voice spoke, hailing from the silhouette grasping onto the Maia’s back, twisting him onto his iron grip. “Forgecraft is not only about strength. It is in precision where true beauty is born.”

At his words, the figure curved his fingers, two of which were dipped between the Maia’s legs, and brushed at a single spot there within: one that made the Maia cry out in ecstatic pleasure.

“Yes, master!” he whimpered. He spread his thighs wider, body quivering with strain – and want.

“Good”, spoke the master, and while he continued his work between the Maia’s thighs, his other hand found its way onto the chest of his apprentice. The Maia’s small nipple was completely engulfed in between his large fingers, twisting and turning in tune with his thrusts. The Maia let out a shrill cry, half-moan, half-sob, while his cock jerked and smeared precum all over the anvil. “A few dedicated touches may induce… what not even a hundred powered swings may achieve.”

As if to accentuate his point, the master’s fingers made one last, precise move, and the Maia came with a cry, spilling his release in a glistening arc. It had not even taken long this time – all it required was a few brushes at his sweet spots.

“Very good”, complimented the master, as he pulled out his fingers and allowed the Maia to catch his breath. “What do you say?”

“Thank you, master Aulë.”

Aulë smiled. There was a reason to why he had named this Maia Mairon, the Admirable One. His manners, as always, were immaculate.

“Now, finish me off.”

Mairon was already on his knees, his master’s cock between his fingers. Aulë tossed his head backward and inhaled, taken aback by his Maia’s skill. He was the ideal apprentice, with hands that were both deft and strong, both curious and obedient in nature. Although that had not always been so. As Mairon worked his hands along his master’s shaft, caressing the stones and pinching his fingers around the base, Aulë thought back to earlier times.

When Mairon had first arrived to Aulë’s service, he had been lost in the crowd. A nameless Maia – a spirit so dim that he was almost translucent, like pallid water. Those days it was other Maiar that Aulë’s eyes were fixed on. Like Curumo, his Cunning One, the gears of his mind always shifting and turning, coming up with new inventions. For long, Mairon was invisible, overshadowed by his peers.

 _“It is a bird”,_ Mairon had presented Aulë one evening, spirit flickering with excitement, _“a mechanical one. Look – wind it up here – and it flutters its wings.”_

The bird did so. Yet, Aulë was not moved. He could see the Maia’s figure grow dimmer before his very eyes, until the bird was practically floating above empty air.

“Why, Master?” the Maia asked, seeing the curve of Aulë’s mouth. “What is wrong with it?”

“It is beautiful, my Nameless One, but it is not _you.”_

Yet, tirelessly the Maia tried. Aulë could sense his frustrations – although he worked hard, he still remained unnoticed. Still, it wasn’t enough. He kept on forging different things – meaningless trinkets, things that one could admire but not _use._

Aulë could sense the Maia’s frustration. Yet, he did not yield. The Maia would learn, in time – only then could he achieve his name.

In the now, a particularly intricate brush of Mairon’s fingers made Aulë hiss, and Mairon hummed and smiled in pleasure. Now, his form was no longer translucent, but beautiful, with breathtaking golden eyes that watched Aulë from between red lashes, curled under perfectly arched brows. His flaming strands hung on his forehead, partially clinging to the sweat on his skin, and the sight alone was nearly as sweet as release.

The Maia had learned quickly. Although for a while after Aulë’s first lesson, he still stuck to his old ways _–_ he soon reverted to other means to capture his master’s attention. Almost all the other Maiar at the forge had names at that point: Mairon was afraid, now, desperate to not be left out.

 _“Please, master”,_ he had begged, falling to his knees in front of Aulë, every particle of his being hissing and crackling, so that the effort produced visible heat and light. _“I need a name. I will do anything…”_

The Maia had bowed his head, and even then, the gold in his eyes had been blinding to behold.

“Anything, you say?” Aulë had asked. And in front of his eyes the sparks had rearranged themselves into a new form, one that was hot and bright and beautiful.

 _Yes._ The memory was almost enough to bring Aulë over the edge, and it did not take long for his pleasure to peak. Mairon’s deft hands had taken up a steady pace, pumping and squeezing around Aulë’s member, machine-like yet organic, soft and warm and firm and _tight—_

Aulë came, his hot release gushing onto Mairon’s closed fist, some of it spurting and leaking from between his fingers. A blank whiteness overtook Aulë’s vision momentarily, and he allowed it to recede before tucking himself in and ordering Mairon to stand.

“Lesson six”, Aulë said, “mastery comes through experience. Use the past lessons you have learned. Think back upon your old mistakes. Improve from them. And with each iteration, you will polish that stone further onto a shining diamond.”

Mairon bowed his head, taking the lesson to heart. The Maia was a mess, his skin stained with sweat and come, yet he still managed to look gorgeous. _Admirable._

“Clean up”, Aulë instructed as he made his way to the door. “And do not stay up too late. You should go home and rest.”

And so, Aulë left.

*

Mairon did not.

For unbeknownst to Aulë, there had been another figure present then, watching them from the shadows. He cloaked himself seemingly into the darkness, as much a part of the shadows as the shadows were part of him. Only after Aulë’s sure departure did he make himself visible, with burning eyes and a razor-sharp smile.

“Master Melkor”, Mairon breathed, bowing his head. He was caught off guard, yet he went straight to his hands and knees.

“Mairon”, Melkor greeted, as he parted Mairon’s robes and ran his fingers upon the Maia’s bare buttocks. “Eager, tonight, are we?”

Mairon’s only answer was a moan, as Melkor dipped his fingers into his ass. Aulë had prepared him thoroughly, and Melkor barely needed to prod Mairon before he was already wide open. Melkor pulled his fingers out and switched them with his cock in the blink of an eye, hissing as his shaft was engulfed by tight heat. Inch by inch he pushed further in, until he was balls-deep within the Maia.

Melkor began to roll his hips slowly, steadily, and Mairon’s rhythmic cries echoed throughout the empty forge. Melkor smiled – if Aulë ever heard them, the result would be scandalous. His most precious Maia, reduced to a hole for his enemy to fuck.

But not only that. The Maia had been _easy._ He was not the first one Melkor had turned – many before had already joined his side and left the Valar. But Mairon… he had not even tried to resist. Sometimes it felt to Melkor as if he was not the seducer, but the one being _seduced._ By this pretty little thing.

The Maia’s shining hair fell in red-gold ringlets on his reddened, sweat-glistening skin as he turned his head to look at Melkor over his shoulder. Mairon had to know he was fair – yet he was not allowed to show it here. A crime, truly.

“Aulë has taught you well”, Melkor said. “Yet he makes you dress in simple rags. A Maia of your skill should be bathed in gold and jewels.”

Mairon clearly delighted in the vision, closing his eyes and moaning. 

“If you were my apprentice, you could have so much more”, Melkor continued. He picked up the pace, fucking Mairon in earnest – each thrust made the Maia tighten around his cock. “I can already see it. How pretty you would look speared around my shaft, riding me atop the throne of Utumno.”

“Ahh – ahh—”

“Indeed.” Melkor tightened his fist around Mairon’s hair, baring his teeth as he fucked him harder. “And not only that. It is always cold, up north. I could use a cock-warmer to my meetings, as well. Just imagine that: bending over beneath the table, as I sat in council with my advisors…”

“Yes…”

“Come with me, and I will give you everything”, Melkor tempted. “The largest forge you have ever seen, with unlimited supply of metals with properties unmatched. There you can build things to your heart’s desire. Only then can you truly go down in history.”

Those words were enough to bring Mairon over to the edge, and he came, his walls tightening around Melkor like a fist. Melkor followed, pulling out and painting the Maia’s freckled cheeks with his release. It clung onto Mairon’s skin, glistening white in the low-forge light. Beautiful and debauched. Perfect.

Only afterwards did Mairon seem to show regret, his eyes darting to the corners of the forge, as if his other master’s eyes were still upon him.

“Aulë…” Mairon gasped. “Aulë can never know.”

“He will not”, Melkor replied as he tucked himself in, “I assure you.”

*

“Melkor”, came a greeting as the dark Vala exited the forge, moments after.

For an instant Melkor considered fleeing, slipping out as a shadow. But no. He had been hiding for long enough.

“Aulë”, he greeted. “Evening.”

“A late evening, indeed”, Aulë gritted his teeth, the muscles on his thick neck tightening. “For a stroll.”

“For a Vala, the concept of time is meaningless.”

Aulë huffed, taking a step closer. He had never had the patience for games.

“Care to admit what you were doing with my apprentice?”

Melkor allowed a slow grin to creep up on his face. “You know what.”

The realization dawned slowly upon Aulë’s features. Shock, at first. Then, denial.

“No”, he shook his head. “Mairon would not do that to me.”

Melkor laughed. “Would he not? It appears you do not know your Maia as well as you would have thought.”

“You lie.”

“No. It is you who lie. You, who care so poorly for your Maiar, that they would eagerly switch masters, if it meant a better hammer to wield or a bigger cock to suck.”

Aulë scoffed. “You think too bigly of yourself.”

Melkor simply lifted his brows, arms crossed. He was not called the Mightiest of the Ainur for no reason.

“You do not trust my word”, he began, “but perhaps you would trust his. Why will you not let your Maia show it himself? Then you shall see where his loyalties truly lie.”

Aulë clenched his fists. Worked his jaw.

“No”, he decided. “Your lies have poisoned his mind long enough.”

“Very well”, Melkor chuckled darkly. “Have it the hard way, then.”

And with that, he vanished, leaving no trace of his presence except for the smoky scent that hung onto Aulë’s skin.

*

For the next few days, Mairon was allowed to work alone.

At first, he thought Aulë and Melkor were simply busy – they had other things to do besides than visit him. His second thought, however, was that he must have done something wrong. Perhaps he had not satisfied Melkor enough. Or had he not made enough progress to impress Aulë?

Whatever it was, it made Mairon work even harder. He spent all of his hours at the forge, working tirelessly to forge things most beautiful; a curved dagger with a blade inlaid with garnets; a golden necklace made of several interlinked rings. He even went so far to test his hand in larger designs – ones he could never execute – at least not under Aulë. Yet he did not stop dreaming about them.

On the fourth day, Aulë returned at last. As always, the forge was empty when they met, two figures together in the dark. But this time something was different about Aulë. Perhaps it was in the tightness of his wide shoulders, perhaps in the angle of his jaw. Almost as if he was _angry._

An invisible fist seemed to tighten around Mairon’s throat. “Master Aulë.”

“Mairon.”

Aulë approached, an unmistakable stiffness in his movements. He settled a foot away from Mairon, lifting one bulky arm, as if to touch. Yet he did not. The hand simply hovered in the air. Waiting.

“Master?”

Aulë tilted his chin upwards. An inquisitive gaze flashed in his eye. He studied Mairon for a moment: observing but saying nothing. Then he nodded towards the table, over Mairon’s shoulder.

“What are these?” he asked. “Blueprints? A tower carved out of onyx? A forge that re-uses excess heat?”

“Nothing, master”, Mairon swallowed. “A personal project. That is all.”

Abruptly, Aulë’s hand shot out, grabbing Mairon’s arm and squeezing it tight. “Do not lie to me.”

“I do not”, Mairon hissed, biting his teeth to fend off the pain. “I would never lie to you.”

At that, Aulë’s face transformed. But this was not his usual, carefree smile. It was all gleaming eyes and sharp teeth. The grimace of a wild beast.

“Even now, your words are untrue.” Aulë twisted Mairon’s hand, pulling him towards himself, so that Mairon could feel Aulë’s beard scratch at his neck. He let out a small whimper, his heart pounding as Aulë breathed into his ear, hot and fast. “Perhaps you should be taught a lesson on respecting your superior.”

“Ah—” Mairon breathed. “Master—”

“Quiet”, Aulë snapped, ripping at Mairon’s garments so hard he heard the fabric tear. His breath was quick as Aulë forced him down, the stone cold against his knees. And hard, as his cock was.

“Lesson seven.” Aulë’s hands roughly parted Mairon’s thighs, fingers lubricated with nothing but spit as they prodded at his entrance. “Never lie to your superior. They will always discover the truth. Sooner or later.”

Two of Aulë’s fingers entered him in a sharp, ungraceful thrust, and the dawning horror that came with realization escaped Mairon’s head. All that was left was the pleasure-pain of the stretch, the built-up heat in this lower belly.

“Master”, he moaned with each thrust, “please…”

Aulë’s fingers drilled even deeper – so hard it made Mairon’s mind go white with pleasure. “Please what?”

“Fuck… me…”

Mairon could hear Aulë’s smile. But not only that. Behind it, there was another, deeper sound – a laugh.

“My, my, Aulë”, the voice spoke, dripping with unmistakable glee. “What would the other Valar say, seeing you treat your Maiar like this?”

“Melkor”, Aulë growled. His fingers went stiff within Mairon. “I told you to leave.”

“Is that so? If I recall your words right, you simply told me not to lie to him anymore. And I have never done that.”

Melkor came within Mairon’s field of sight. As always, his presence was a surge in Mairon’s veins, a rumble in his very bones.

“This is between the two of us”, Aulë continued, resuming to his task by adding a third finger within Mairon. Mairon winced. “Leave us.”

“No.” Melkor’s lips were curved in a crooked smile. His eyes turned from Aulë onto Mairon, and the touch of his gaze sent a shock of sparks through the Maia.

“Mairon. Is that the proper way to treat your master? Come here.”

Mairon’s eyes went wide. He let out a sound of protest.

“There is no use in playing games”, Melkor waved his hand. “Aulë knows everything. Let us drop the pretense. _Come here.”_

This time Melkor’s tone was no longer a request – it was a command. It tugged at Mairon’s heart, pulling him along like an invisible string. Almost unconsciously, he felt himself drawing away from Aulë’s fingers, tilting forward towards Melkor.

“Good”, Melkor smiled, parting his robes to reveal the thick length of his erect cock. Just the sight of it expelled every coherent thought from Mairon’s mind. Saliva began dripping on his tongue.

“What?” Aulë’s tone was full of disbelief. “You cannot possibly mean—”

But Mairon barely heard him anymore. He was distantly aware of the slackened fingers that slipped out of his ass. He only saw Melkor, his shadow consuming all, his eyes two burning crucibles within the darkness. Mairon was drawn towards them: a small, lone asteroid, gravitating towards a much larger heavenly body.

So, he began to crawl towards Melkor on his hands and knees, tongue hanging open.

“Come”, Melkor coaxed. “Come to your master.”

“No!”

Aulë’s words dragged Mairon back to reality. Mairon felt large arms grabbing at his buttocks, hard enough to bruise – then the weight of Aulë’s heavy cock resting on his cheeks. Mairon cried out as Aulë entered him in one, harsh thrust, burying himself in until the hilt.

“Lesson eight”, Aulë growled as he took a moment to stretch out his apprentice, simply relishing in the tightness of Mairon’s channel around his cock. The sensation burned, _too hard too fast –_ and Mairon could do nothing but heave for breath, to blink at the tears that surged in his eyes. _“Never_ betray your master. No matter what the temptation. Discard those thoughts. Remember who you are.”

A pang of guilt struck Mairon’s gut. “Yes, master! I’m sorry, master!”

“I told you”, Aulë said, now addressing his words to Melkor, “he is loyal to _me._ He would never succumb to your lies.”

“Lies.” There was a hint of amusement in Melkor’s tone. He began slowly unbuttoning his robes, until his chiseled chest was exposed along with his cock. Granite-gray and perfectly toned. He shrugged the robes off, revealing his heavy biceps and powerful arms, webbed all along with thick, dark veins. His midnight-black hair fell in a straight fountain upon his buttocks, clinging onto his hips as he began a slow, sensual stroll. His burning eyes were upon Mairon once more – calling, beckoning. “I have never lied to you, Mairon. Every word I have spoken has been true. It is Aulë who has kept secrets from you. He is holding you back.”

Aulë protested with a sharp thrust of his hips, reminding Mairon that he was still there. “Silence!”

Melkor chuckled, low and throaty. He stopped in front of Mairon, settling there, legs wide. An invitation. He cocked his chin upwards, as if to coax Mairon.

Melkor’s scent was of snow and ash. It was intoxicating.

“Do not dare”, Aulë said.

But Mairon’s lips were already on Melkor’s cock.

“Yes”, Melkor hissed, throwing his head backwards and closing his eyes. “Please your master.”

Aulë’s hips stuttered in shock. “No – Mairon – stop—”

Mairon did not. The taste of Melkor’s cock on his lips was simply too good. Like Melkor’s scent, it held a hint of smoke, and the sensation was both hot and cold at the same time. Melkor allowed Mairon to explore his way for a moment, to dart out his tongue and to run it along the head and the underside of the shaft. Then, slowly, his lips dragged on further, until Melkor’s tip hit the back of Mairon’s mouth. Mairon gagged, saliva running from the corners of his lips, and the abrupt tightening of his throat made Melkor groan in pleasure.

“Take that, all the way… just like that…”

“Don’t—” Aule’s grip upon Mairon’s buttocks tightened. The roll of his hips was no longer gentle. “—forget me.”

At the same time, Mairon felt Melkor’s clawed fingers scratch at his scalp, twisting his hair as he held him still. Melkor did not even have to do any work – with each thrust that Aulë gave, Mairon was simply pushed deeper onto Melkor’s cock, until he was choking and gagging at the intrusion. Like a piece of molten metal, caught between an anvil and a hammer. Mairon could not have stopped even if he tried.

“Tell me, Mairon”, Melkor asked, “how does it feel like, being filled in two holes at the same time? Full, I reckon.”

“Mmh”, Mairon simply murmured. Hard to talk with a cock so deep in his mouth and ass. Hard to _think,_ to focus on anything besides the building heat, besides the pleasure-pain that hit him with every thrust. His own cock was rock-hard as well, twitching uselessly against his belly. If someone were to touch him there now, he would come instantly.

“You are just made for it”, Melkor continued. His sharp fingernails stroked Mairon’s hollowed-out cheek, a soft caress among such harshness. “Made for taking our cocks. Nothing else can satisfy you, wanton whore.”

“Be quiet”, Aulë grunted. His thrusts hammered relentlessly against Mairon’s ass, each more powerful than the one before it. Flesh clapped against flesh, and Mairon could not even imagine how long his buttocks would ache.

“But I am correct”, Melkor replied. His eyes seared onto Aulë’s own, as he matched his thrusts with the other Vala, perfectly synchronized. “Look at him. _Feel_ him. It excites him, this talk. Does it not, _slut?”_

Mairon whimpered as a shudder of want wrecked his entire body. He wanted to protest, to prove both of his masters that he was more than _this –_ but his body betrayed him. He could simply remain pliant: ass up, thighs wide, squeezing Aulë’s cock as he gagged on Melkor’s length, dripping drool all over his jaw. They were both so _big_ that Mairon could feel his internal organs straining, twisting to make room for the two cocks that invaded his body, in this show of dominance between two masters. A particularly harsh two-sided thrust reverberated all the way down to his spine: so deep that Mairon could almost imagine the two cocks meeting within him. The thought made his own cock jerk in an almost-orgasm.

“You may be a slut, but you are _my_ slut”, Melkor said. “Make me come. Show who you truly belong to.”

Mairon let out a muffled cry. He was so full already – he could not imagine being filled even more than this.

“No”, Aulë groaned, meeting Melkor’s eyes with every thrust. “You – are – mine—”

But Mairon had already decided to whom he belonged.

He swallowed around Melkor eagerly, bobbing his head up and down in tune with Aulë’s thrusts. He could not control his movements, so he focused on his tongue, licking and sucking greedily along Melkor’s shaft. Sensing Melkor’s impending orgasm, Mairon hollowed his cheeks and flicked his tongue, tirelessly working towards his true master’s release.

Melkor’s growl shook the earth as he filled Mairon’s mouth to the brim. He came with the violence of an eruption, a hot flood of come that was seemingly endless. The sensation was so overpowering Mairon barely felt Aulë come, the hammer-like pulses of his orgasm but an echo of Melkor’s release.

At last, it was over. Melkor and Aulë pulled out, and Mairon was left gasping on the floor, his cock still hard and aching.

“Master…” he whimpered.

Both of them heard. But only one answered.

“I can help you with that”, Melkor said, his large hands wrapping around Mairon. Mairon barely even felt himself being lifted up and onto the table. Melkor’s cock slid into him effortlessly, the stretch eased out by Aulë’s come that still slicked his channel. Mairon could only moan, eyes half-open, as Melkor lifted his hips, then lowered him back down, so that Mairon was repeatedly speared on his master’s cock. Again. And again.

Melkor’s other hand wrapped around Mairon’s shaft, beginning to pump his hand up and down along his length.

Mairon was faintly aware of Aulë’s words in his ear. “If you come for him, you are dead to me.”

He did not pay mind to them. He was consumed by Melkor, by his presence, by the weight of Melkor’s large hands on his cock, by the hot-cold sting of his breath against his skin.

“Who do you belong to?” Melkor growled, teeth bared as he rolled his hips _just right,_ into that perfect angle that made Mairon’s mind go blank.

“Ah – ah – ah—”

“Speak. Who?”

“You, master”, Mairon moaned. “I am yours…”

Pleasure overtook him. His entire body shook, convulsing almost violently as come gushed out of him like a jet. Melkor’s guttural groan sealed the deal. There was no turning back. This was where Mairon’s soul belonged.

Mairon barely heard Aulë walk out.

In the past, the thought would have filled him with dread. He knew what came now.

But in the present, Mairon no longer cared.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked, I’d love a comment or kudos. ♥


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